Page 50 of Deviant
I’ve been staring at the same water stain on my ceiling for forty-five minutes.
It’s shaped like nothing in particular, but I’ve mapped it a hundred times over the last week as I lie here after long days on the ranch, with my boots still on and my arm thrown over my eyes, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the thing I keep coming back to.
The water stain seems like a good choice.
A week.
It’s been a week since the birthday party, and I haven’t said a single word about what happened behind that barn, and neither has Colt. We’ve worked side by side every day since like two men who are perfectly fine, but I amnotperfectly fine. I am so far from perfectly fine that fine has become a foreign country I can no longer locate on a map.
Here’s what I know.
I know that I put my mouth on Colton Dawson’s dick and didn’t hate it.
I know that, when I close my eyes, I think about his hands and the sounds he made.
I know that I am twenty-three years old and have never felt anything like that in my life.
And I don’t know what to do with that information.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it and unlock it.
Unknown Number:
I heard the dick is pierced. Did you like it?
It’s been two weeks since the last one. My mystery admirer has been silent since I broke up with Molly.
I read the text again, then again, my pulse rising as heat crawls up my neck. No one should know that I know his dick is pierced, except for one person.
Colton.
It has to be him. He’s smart and calculated enough to try and play this game. He’s got me so twisted up inside, he must think he can just expose me for being something I most definitely am not.
Me:
Who told you that?
Unknown Number:
A little bird. Did you answer my question?
Me:
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Unknown Number:
Sure you don’t. How’s the jaw? Must be sore.
White hot. Everything goes white hot.
I sit up in bed.
Me:
Tell me who you are right now.
Unknown Number:
